Interlude
by Anya2
Summary: Beckett centric look at the time they spent back on Earth during ‘The Return Part 1’ as Carson and the others try to form lives after Atlantis.
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** Interlude  
**RATING:** R  
**PAIRINGS:** Beckett/OC  
**SPOILERS:** The Return Pt 1  
**SUMMARY:** Beckett centric look at the time they spent back on Earth during 'The Return Part 1'

* * *

**Part One**

"You'll be fine son," Carson said with a slightly exasperated sigh as he placed the clipboard with the test results aside, having needed to take no more than a cursory glance to confirm what he suspected, "No harm done."

He was pleased with the outcome of course but he couldn't helping think that if the soldier hadn't have been so bloody stupid and irresponsible in the first place then there wouldn't be any need for all this. That was the problem with many of these lads – always sticking things where they didn't belong. It would make his job an awful lot easier if they thought before they leapt every once in a while.

They were also rather more stubborn and argumentative than he would have liked and this particular marine certainly seemed not to be in exact agreement with the doctor's prognosis.

"Fine? Look at me, doc!"

"Really," Carson reassured, "It's not that bad."

Turning around, he picked up the closest thing he could find to a mirror - a shiny steel kidney dish – and handed it to the other man for him to check it out for himself.

The marine took one look at his albeit distorted reflection and then glared questioningly at Carson.

"Aye," conceded the doctor, "It's a bit red I'll give you that. But it'll go down in a couple of days."

'A bit red' was rather an understatement if he was honest. The man's face was covered in a rather unattractive patchwork of angry red blotches, as were his hands, arms, neck and, Carson, suspected, every other inch of him too. Medically it wasn't a problem but he had to agree that it wasn't exactly aesthetically pleasing.

"A couple of days?" the man complained, half sulk, half annoyed, "But I have a date tonight."

"Well," Carson advised with a hint of a smile, as he searched the cupboards for an appropriate cream, "Then maybe you shouldn't go around taking food from strange women on alien planets then, hmm?"

"She offered," the marine explained, absently scratching at his arm, "I thought it would be rude to refuse."

"I'm sure you did," Carson continued lightly, "Now stop scratching it, rub some of this on and it'll go down."

He handed him a tube of hydrocortisone cream. The marine didn't look impressed.

"But she's a biologist," he whined.

Carson looked perplexed.

"The girl I'm going on the date with," the marine explained, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and Carson was being really rather dense for not keeping up, "She's a biologist."

Carson remained at a loss as to what, if any, difference that should make and was still relatively unsympathetic. It was self inflicted after all and he had a lot of other things he could and should be doing.

"Then maybe she'll be fascinated by it," he said hurriedly, ushering the soldier out, "She might want you as a case study. It could be something for you to talk about."

The marine grinned, "I wasn't planning on doing much talking if you catch my drift, doc."

Carson looked skywards, "I really don't want to know."

"Neither do I," came a voice from the door and both men looked up to see Colonel Sheppard leaning on the frame, giving the marine a reproachful look. He dismissed the other man with a simple nod towards the exit, the marine having the good grace to look mildly reprimanded.

"And do what he said, Johnson," Sheppard called after him, "From now on you don't eat anything unless it comes in a foil package courtesy of the SGC, got it?"

"Yes sir."

Sheppard sighed and shook his head as he walked properly into the room. "Sorry, doc, I try to keep an eye on them but you know what kids are like these days..."

Carson laughed slightly as he sorted things out in preparation for the next patient. It was far too true. Since their return they had begun to feel more and more like the old veterans, with all these young, gung ho pups running around them, trying to prove themselves. Carson didn't mind so much. At least in his profession age was an advantage up to a certain point. Sheppard however seemed distinctly uncomfortable about the whole thing. And he was certainly irritated by the lack of experience he was forced to deal with, apparently unable to empathise that he had been just like them once.

"What was his name again?" Carson asked, glancing around for the chart he had put down earlier.

"Johnson," Sheppard replied, seeing the object in question and handing it to him, getting a thanking nod in return. He watched quietly for a moment whilst Carson jotted things down in typical doctor's scrawl.

"You can't remember all their names, you know," he eventually added, looking at Carson knowingly, easily reading the meaning behind his simple question, "There's too many people here. Too many coming and going. It's not like on Atlantis."

Talk of the city and how things were detrimentally different here was a subject that Carson would no longer be drawn into. It had been a month now. They had to starting getting on with things here and stop looking back so wistfully. It did none of them any good to keep wallowing in what and who they had lost.

Sheppard at least had thrown himself fully into his new role as leader of one of the SGC's prime first contact teams. Essentially it was a step down on the ladder but Carson supposed most things were when you had been military leader of an alien base in another galaxy. Still, Sheppard certainly had the respect of the men and Landry was sympathetic to his position, involving him the important running of the base as much as he saw fit. Even so, it was clear that John had been impatient, restless and rather snippy of late. Carson suspected that that had as much to do with having to leave Teyla and Ronon behind as it had with having to leave the city itself.

Rodney had been in a terse mood when they had last spoken on the phone but there was nothing unusual there. He'd sounded a little down too though which was certainly not like him. As much as he'd probably hate to admit it, Carson guessed that he was likely a bit lonely out there in Area 51. And bored too. He was sure that for a man of Rodney's intellect, anything after the seemingly never ending mysteries and discoveries that Atlantis had to offer was a letdown. Still, he'd heard on the grapevine that once he returned from visiting his family in the Czech Republic, Radek was due to join Rodney on his latest project. Having his old sparring partner around would undoubtedly cheer him up; or at least give him someone to rant at who'd make things interesting by arguing back. It made him smile to think that Rodney, who so often complained that he wasn't appreciated enough, hated it so vehemently when all those around him did was blindly praise.

The person he was most concerned about was Elizabeth. John and Rodney were outwardly unhappy and disappointed with the decision and let it show. She however still didn't seem to accept what had happened, unable to really come to terms with the fact that the mission was over and they were not going back. He supposed that when you put so much of yourself into something, it was very hard to have it taken out of your hands so decisively. Somehow she had made herself responsible for that city – her city – and letting it go was turning out to be a bigger wrench than any of them had imagined. They all agreed that she needed to get out, to find another position and to carry on with her career but so far she seemed to be content to live in limbo. Carson had promised himself that he would go to see her in a few days if she didn't show signs of moving on. Or started answering their phone calls at least.

As for himself...well, people needed mending no matter what galaxy they were in and so nothing really changed there. The people changed though and he wasn't afraid to admit that that did bother him. He missed his friends and, whilst it was true that most of them at least weren't exactly far away, it wasn't the same as the camaraderie they had shared whilst on Atlantis. As admittedly terrified and uncertain as he had been when they'd first gone, and despite all the dangers they had faced in the meantime, he'd felt at home on Atlantis and that feeling was unfortunately hard to reproduce. But as a start he could at least try to know everyone's name.

"It doesn't hurt to try," he replied cheerfully, not in the least bit embarrassed at being essentially caught out.

And why should he? Some doctors preferred not to know their patients, said that they worked better when they didn't get emotionally involved. Carson simply wasn't like that. He could very clearly remember how well his father had always spoken of Doctor Newman who had treated him during his illness. How kind, friendly and caring the man had been; how he had always been an exceptional physician but also a good friend too when needed. Right up to the day his father died he was thankful for that man and Carson knew how much easier that had made it for him and all the family to at least know how well he was cared for. When he had become a doctor himself it was something he couldn't forget.

"Yeah, well I've got slightly better things to do with my time," Sheppard replied a little absently and then, realising how that sounded, added, "You know, I just have priorities elsewhere. It's not like I don't care. I mean if I meet someone and I don't know they're name and I've gotta work with them then, sure, I'm gonna ask. For example, this lovely young lady here. I don't know her name."

Carson looked up from finalising his notes, having honestly switched off slightly during Sheppard's little monologue, to see a woman standing in the doorway, giving the Colonel a very odd look indeed.

"Colonel John Sheppard", he introduced with a small smile, holding out his hand to her.

"I need to see Dr Beckett," she responded with a mildly perplexed frown.

Sheppard's grin didn't budge, "Aw, come on. Can't we even shake hands first?"

"I'd really rather not", she replied dryly, holding up her hand to show a bleeding gash there.

Sheppard nodded without missing a beat.

"You need to see Dr Beckett," he conceded, stepping aside out of her way. He patted Beckett on the shoulder, "I'll leave her to you, doc. I have some airmen to scare into submission."

"Have fun," Carson replied, with only mild sarcasm.

Sheppard grinned a little too pleased, "Will do."

"Well then, Imogen," Carson continued, patting the bed as an encouragement for her to sit, "Since when did translating Ancient text become so dangerous, hmm?"

"That's not all I do, you know," she replied with a small huff, the wound making her touchy although he wasn't sure if it was the discomfort or the inconvenience that bothered her the most. She walked over and perched herself a little precariously on the corner of the bed, unable to push herself up properly with only one available hand. He could see that despite her offhanded manner her brow was damp and her face a bit pale; clearly not as blasé about this as she seemed.

She watched for a moment in a rather apprehensive manner as he picked up various instruments and bandages and laid them on a nearby tray, before adding, "I was actually looking at some artefacts brought back from P3X 278."

"Really?" he asked, although his tone was distracted as he raised her hand up and peered more carefully at the wound.

"And I dropped one."

"That was silly," he said, still absent, his concentration fixed upon cleaning the wound as carefully as he could.

"Well I didn't do it on purpose," she reasoned, still a little irritable, flinching as he prodded a bit too hard.

"Sorry."

"It was some sort of earthenware vessel," she continued, brushing aside his apology as unnecessary in the circumstances, "I caught myself on one of the pieces as I was picking them up."

"Aye, well it isn't too bad," he said, finishing his examination, "It will need a few stitches though."

"Is that all?" she asked, looking at it rather grimly, "It felt an awful lot more dramatic."

He smiled, as he drew up a small amount of local anaesthetic, "You're not squeamish are you, Imogen?"

"Only when it's my own blood," she responded dourly.

Noting the way she tensed, he patted her arm reassuringly and added, "Nothing to worry about. Won't take a jiffy."

She nodded but he suspected she was still unconvinced. Moments later, local anaesthetic administered whilst she very deliberately looked away he decided a distraction was needed as he worked.

"I was sorry to hear about your father."

On reflection he probably should have settled on something more genial, like the weather perhaps.

"Thank you," she said after a long, heavy pause in which he cursed himself for being so forward. The moment was awkward and she seemed to feel obliged to say more even if she didn't really want to.

"The doctors you suggested were very helpful," she added, "They improved his quality of life no end. He only got really bad in the week beforehand. Up until then he was...he was very happy. He wanted to thank you himself but of course I couldn't tell him where you were so..."

Carson smiled a little, "Not necessary, love, really. Just good to hear he was so well."

Dr Imogen Cartwright was an anthropologist who had been for working on and off for the Stargate program for a number of years. A talented linguist, she had been one of a small group of people assigned to translating the increasing number of Ancient artefacts, tablets and repositories recovered as well as ensuring that all the off world cultures encountered were documented correctly.

Carson had met her in Antarctica, hearing the English accent around a couple of times before locating the source wrapped up inside numerous jumpers, coats, scarves, hats and gloves, trying to translate the extensive Ancient text found there. Apparently she wasn't very good with the cold but her curiosity about the place had got the better of her. He'd spoken to her lot whilst they were there. She was kind and friendly and he was admittedly a little homesick. It was good to talk to someone from his own continent at least.

The arrangement had been that she would head out to Atlantis with the intended second wave of personnel, one of many who would strength the science teams once the base was established and secure. He was actually rather looking forward to seeing her again, what with being further away from home than ever. Her father getting ill had of course put a stop to any of that. He'd heard about it from Elizabeth, curious as to why Imogen had never joined the project when her other colleagues had arrived. He'd written to her then, sent her and her father his best wishes and the names of a few specialist he knew of who could help. Her return note had been a simple thank you and a hope to see him soon.

That was the last he'd heard of her until a few months ago. A short letter to say that her father had died and to thank him for his help and advice. He had intended to go to Elizabeth and ask for the time off to attend the funeral; he knew Imogen had no other living relatives and it played badly on his conscience to think of a friend having no support on hand at such a time. But before he could ask, Elizabeth had gotten ill with the nanite infection and he had had to prioritise. By the time she was well again it was already too late to get back.

He was pleasantly surprised therefore to find Imogen working here when they had arrived back at the SGC. Apparently she was meant to at last be going to join the Atlantis expedition and had been cleared just days before the Ancients had arrived. It was beginning to seem that it simply wasn't meant to be for her.

He'd seen her many times in passing since he'd come back, stopping once to say hello and insist that they have lunch and catch up. She'd be nice enough but always seemingly in a rush to be somewhere else. Dr Jackson had assured Carson that it was nothing personal – she'd been like that ever since she'd returned to the program, apparently working very hard to catch up on the things she'd neglected to do when her father's illness worsened. Many times Carson had meant to hunt out her office, to go down there with a cup of tea and a friendly face. A mixture of too many emergencies and too many soldiers doing silly things that swallowed up his time had gotten in the way however. He supposed then that he really should make the most of it whilst she was a captive audience.

Much to his surprise it was her who spoke first.

"How are you settling back in?" she asked, apparently looking at his face to avoid glancing at the delicate stitches he was putting into her hand, "It must be odd to be back here so suddenly."

"Aye," he admitted, "But medicine is medicine no matter what galaxy you're in."

"You do miss it though," she said perceptively and he looked up a moment, considering his answer before continuing.

"Aye, I do. True, there's no place like home but..."

"It was starting to feel like it?"

He smiled a little, "Am I that obvious?"

She looked a little embarrassed, as though she believed that he thought she was being a bit too forward in her assumptions.

"I didn't mean-"

He cut her off, "No, you're right, love. I hadn't really realised how used I had gotten to being out there. I think I still have some adjusting to do."

"Well you are spending an awful lot of time on this base," she commented, "That's probably not helping."

He was quite for a moment under the pretence of concentration over tying off the last of the stitches. In reality her words had given him definite pause for thought. Firstly, she was again right and he honestly hadn't realised it until now. Here he was, worrying about Elizabeth not being able to let go and get on with her life and in truth he wasn't doing much better either. He had been spending an awful lot of time here, doing any and all shifts they gave him, only going home to sleep and collect his mail. He'd convinced himself that he was just trying to get back into the swing of things work wise – getting used to a new place, new staff and new patients. But maybe he was avoiding life as such. On Atlantis it was so hard to separate life and work but back here he really should make more of an effort to do so. After all, hadn't they always complained about how, as wonderful and as important as their work was, Atlantis didn't really allow them time for a life outside it?

He was also a little surprised to hear that she had taken note of the fact he was here so often. He'd seen so little of her since he had come back that he'd naturally assumed that his return was nothing more than a passing interest in her. Had he stayed on Earth or had she even come to Atlantis he might have pursued their acquaintance further. In fact he had briefly considered it whilst they had been working together in Antarctica but had decided it was silly and unfair to start anything when he was going away so soon and with such an uncertain future. The facts were though that she was pretty, friendly, interesting to talk to and he had always enjoyed her company. And you never knew until you tried.

Besides, it might go some way towards silencing his mother's constant and unasked for advice that he should find a nice lass and settle down. That he wasn't getting any younger after all. That it wasn't right or healthy for a man his age to still be single. He knew she meant well but...

"There," he said, finishing the last stitch, "All done. Let's just put a dressing on that."

"How come doctors can do such a neat job here," she said checking his handiwork carefully, whilst he retrieved yet more equipment, "Yet can't darn socks to save their lives?"

"Oi," he protested, "I'll have you know I'm very handy with a needle and thread, thank you very much."

"Well to be fair, I don't have extensive experience of physician's socks," she admitted with a slight smile, "But the ones I have seen have been very bad indeed."

"The exception, not the my rule my dear, I'm sure."

He carefully bandaged her hand, much more slowly than necessary but trying to give himself to find the right way to ask. Or at least the right opening to broach the subject. He hadn't exactly had much practice recently and even when he had tried to develop a relationship with Laura Cadman things had just fizzled out before they even started. It was a pity, but these things happened. And on the bright side it gave him excellent ammunition for him to tease Rodney about her liking him much more instead.

Much to his relief Imogen came unwittingly to his rescue once again.

"You didn't spend much time here before you left for Atlantis, did you?"

"No," he agreed. Since his return the SGC's personnel department had acquired an apartment for him in Colorado Springs and he had started to arrange for his belongings to final come out of storage. Before that however he had spent months living in glorified barracks in Antarctica and then his final few days on Earth barely leaving the base here. It had been a fair while since he'd been in a hospitable part of this planet long enough to call anywhere a home.

"I've been here so long now, I'm almost a local," she said with a slightly amused smile, "I could show you around if you like. There's not a lot to see, granted, but it might help you settle in a bit more and it'll give you an excuse to get out of here for a while. The fresh air will do you good at least."

He raised an eyebrow, "And just who is the doctor here?"

She seemed to take his jesting the wrong way and her face tainted slightly with an embarrassed flush, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

For the second time he cut of an unnecessary apology from her.

"It's a lovely idea," he reassured, "Thank you."

"Oh...okay...Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be perfect."

She smiled a little. "To be honest, it will be nice to get out of here myself. There's only so many strutting marines and burly soldiers a girl can put up with."

"Oh so you don't consider me 'burly' or 'strutting' then?" he said with a playful grin.

She pondered it for a moment.

"You're...a pleasant surprise," she admitted.

Carson was pleasantly surprised himself at just how well this was going when they were interrupted by Sheppard, half hauling a limping soldier into the room.

"SG-7 came under fire whilst retreating back to the gate," he said as a means of explanation.

Carson frowned a little, "Anyone badly hurt?"

"No, just Denton here," he said helping the soldier to pop up onto the bed as Imogen got clear out of their way.

Carson immediately started checking him over for any obvious sign of injury.

"Weapon wound?" he asked, suspecting that was what he was looking for.

"Bad timing and a twisted ankle," Sheppard explained, causing Carson to look up at him with a curious frown.

Sheppard continued to clarify using his hands to demonstrate.

"See, he dived through the gate, only he didn't quite time it right, came out at a bit of an odd angle and he rolled straight off the ramp when he came through."

Carson frowned, not quite believing him, "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Sheppard said with a slow nod, clearly not quite believing the ludicrousness of it himself.

"Right then, son," Carson said, trying very hard to look serious about not, desperately trying not to picture the scene, "Let's have a look at that ankle."

"I'll get out of your way," Imogen interrupted hurriedly, already having retreated to the door to allow them to get on with it.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Carson said, talking to her whilst directing a nurse to remove Denton's boot and sock, trying to do two things at once, "You don't feel light headed? Dizzy?"

"No. No, not at all," she assured him.

"Well take it easy for the rest of the day and if you feel unwell come straight back, understand?" he said, it coming out like more of an order than a suggestion in his distracted state, "Meet me here tomorrow morning. I'll redress that first."

She saluted with an amused smile and her bandaged hand and then turned round and left him to his job.

Unsurprisingly, nothing got past Sheppard so easily.

"Doctor?" he asked, raised eyebrow and questioning tone clearly wondering what was coming second if that was what they were doing first.

"Yes, Colonel?" Carson asked, the picture of innocence.

Sheppard smiled but said nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

In lieu of her freshly re-bandaged hand Carson had initially offered to drive the next day, but she had quickly reminded him that she was the one who was supposed to be conducting this tour and it would be far easier to leave the travel arrangements to someone who actually knew where they were going.

She'd also worked into the conversation deliberately casually the fact that he clearly hadn't been home the night before which was indeed true. A fact that served to underline for him what he already suspected about just how fully he'd been throwing himself into his work lately. Apparently he was looking pale, even for a Scot, and she'd insisted that they went somewhere that he could get some fresh air and real sky over his head. Get out of the base for a while and into the real world.

"Besides," she pointed out as they drove through an area he didn't recognise, "Unless you're into cowboys, horses or shopping there's not much of note in the city anyway. The area around it is beautiful though."

She smiled a little.

"To be fair this place isn't as bad as some make it out to be. It's remarkably civilised actually," she joked, "We have a cricket team and everything."

Carson laughed slightly, "Don't understand a bloody word of it."

"Oh, that's right," she said teasingly, "I forgot, you're a Scot. It's not your fault you lot can't play. "

He raised an eyebrow at that, "Neither can your boys and you invented it."

"True," she said, admitting defeat with a laugh, "Well I'm afraid there isn't much in the way of rugby here either. There's baseball of course..."

"Glorified rounders?"

"And a football...sorry 'soccer' team."

"Now that's more like it."

"Can't say I've ever seen the attraction myself. Eleven grown men kicking a ball around a field? Where's the skill in that?"

"I'll have to take you to see a game, get your mind changed."

He realised that was almost like asking her on a date which was a bit presumptuous really and for a moment it threw him.

"You know," he pointed out after a small, thoughtful pause, "You said 'We'?"

"Pardon?" she asked in puzzlement, clearly not getting his point.

"You said 'we have a cricket team'", he elaborated, "Going all native are you, love?"

She grinned, "I suppose I am a little. I've spent most of my adult life travelling though. You get used to having to fit in places quickly after a while."

Carson wasn't so sure he was capable of that and to be honest he didn't really want to be. It was hard enough to have to relocate here and he certainly couldn't see himself leaving again in a hurry. For a start he was too attached to the Stargate program to quit it now and, whilst a little bit of his heart indeed still resided in Scotland, he knew he couldn't leave behind this job for anything. Admittedly Colorado Springs wasn't perhaps the most ideal place in the world but it was pleasant enough. As they travelled through some of the nicer suburbs his mind, without his bidding, noticed that it actually wouldn't be a bad place to live at all. That you could settle down, have a life and bring up a family here. It was never something he'd put a great deal of serious thought into if he was honest. He certainly wasn't adverse to the idea - in fact he could quite happily see himself married with children one day - it was just that circumstance meant he'd never really had the opportunity to do anything about it. Now he had time to, maybe he should.

The idea made him suddenly uncomfortable for a moment in Imogen's presence, as though he was concerned that she might know what he was thinking about and he shuffled a little in his seat, keeping his gaze firmly rooted out of the window until the colour in his cheeks subsided.

The remaining drive only took fifteen minutes, most of which passed in comfortable small talk about work and goings on in the base. The car park they pulled into seemed to be for some kind of nature reserve and was unsurprisingly rather empty since it was midweek and the school holidays weren't for another few months yet.

"Where are we?"

"Seven Falls," she said with a fond smile which convinced him she'd been here before, "Fresh air, lovely scenery and spectacular views..."

"Just what the doctor ordered," he agreed with a grin.

"Good hiking too."

"Hiking?" he asked with a slight grimace, suddenly not quite so keen.

"Don't worry," she said shoving him slightly to get him moving, "I'll be gentle with you."

After spending a good ten minutes admiring the view from the observation point, and in spite of Carson's protests that it wasn't very bloody restful, they took the two hundred and twenty four stairs up the side of the water fall and headed off down one of the trails. It was certainly peaceful out here he had to agree with that. On the way down they passed very few people – two middle aged ladies, a young family, a man walking his dog - and eventually came out into a small open area, complete with rock pool and flowing waterfall. According to the sign this was Midnight Falls. He had to admit it was lovely. And so calm and detached from the rest of the world even if in reality it was only a few miles from the Cheyenne mountain. It was almost like being on a whole other planet – and he'd been on a fair few to know.

"See?" she said quietly, sitting down on a flat rock, trailing her fingers absently in the shallow stream, "Atlantis may have that great big city but I'm sure it doesn't have places like this."

"Not that I know of," he agreed, still taking in the view in front of him.

"And even if there was there'd probably be big alien bugs to deal with," she added with a small grimace.

He grinned ever so slightly, "Believe me, if there were we wouldn't be just sitting around here like this."

The idea that he could think of their encounters with the iratus bugs with even a vague fondness was a little disturbing and a definite indicator that he still wasn't perhaps being entirely objective about his time on Atlantis. And that he clearly was in desperate need of a new perspective on things.

"I should imagine we're not the most interesting little planet out there," Imogen continued with a slight, almost wistful sigh, "But we do have our moments."

"Aye, we do," he agreed, knowing he was certainly guilty of looking at Atlantis with rose tinted spectacles and of ignoring the charms of his home planet. It wasn't a bad place to come home to after all.

"Ever been to Angkor Wat?

"No, I haven't."

"The Temple of Philae?"

"No."

"The Parthenon?"

"No."

"Piza?"

"No".

"You want to get out more."

He laughed gently, "Apparently so."

"And you have family back in Scotland, don't you?" she pressed softly, "When was the last time you even went home?"

He paused for a moment. It had been a while it was true. Near on three years in fact. Every time he got one of her letters, his mother asked him when he was coming home, told him how much his nieces and nephews were growing up and that he really must come and visit them before they forgot who he was. He hadn't even phoned her since he'd gotten back. Glancing at her he couldn't help but realise that Imogen herself didn't have any family and here he was, lucky to have so many relations, yet all but ignoring them. It was very stupid and very selfish.

"It's been a while," he admitted, a little ashamed.

"Well why don't you take the time then?" she suggested as though it was the easiest thing in the world, "I'm sure in the circumstances the SGC would give you a few weeks leave. Might be good for you as well. Get a clean, proper break."

"Aye," he said with a nod, wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself. He supposed that he had gotten so used to essentially always being at work that the thought of leaving for any length of time was totally alien to him.

"It would be nice," he admitted, "Pleasant change of scenery."

"And," she added quietly, as though a little nervous of expressing her opinion in case he found it objectionable, "Perhaps you might come to realise that you don't need to be so disappointed you were made to come home."

He turned and looked at her thoughtfully. She was a remarkably perceptive lass, he had to give her that.

"Disappointed?" he said, sitting down beside her, "Aye, I suppose I am..."

"Look, I know what it's like to have to leave a project behind," she confided, "There's been plenty of times I've been out at a site and some dispute with the government or local officials or even lack of money has meant we've had to leave. It's very frustrating. Especially when you can't go back.

She paused just for a moment and he could see on her face that she must be recalling some past regrets in her own career.

"But there's always something else just as important waiting to take its place," she continued all of a sudden, her overly bright voice making up for her melancholy moments before, "There's still plenty of work to be done here. Especially now with the Ori threatening. We need all the good people we can get."

That was certainly true. If there was a task even vaguely comparable with their work on Atlantis it was trying to stem the Ori threat. He understood very well the importance of that work and he was more than willing and proud to be a part of it but...

"I know...It's just," he shook his head with definite regret, "It feels like we left everything unfinished."

"You did," she pointed out, utterly pragmatic, "But it wasn't through want of trying. You, Dr Weir, Dr McKay, Colonel Sheppard...you all did your best. You couldn't take the city from the Ancients. It just wouldn't have been right."

"No, it wouldn't," he agreed, with a slow nod. They had never even considered trying to keep the city. In the end it seemed, despite how much like home it felt, they had never truly considered themselves more than lodgers there.

"Did you leave friends behind?"

He was beginning to wonder if she had some insider knowledge that he wasn't aware of. Or if he was he just very transparent.

"Aye, we did."

He couldn't help but be concerned despite the reassurances of others. Teyla and Ronon were strong people and good fighters, and Sheppard had left them with some weapons and supplies in case of emergency, although Carson strongly suspected that was not something his superiors would have approved of. But they were only two people and if the Wraith came...

The worst part was the fact that they may never know. There was simply no way of contacting them unless the Ancients relented and let them use the gate and the way things were going though that didn't seem likely in the foreseeable future.

Their friends could already be dead and he and the others would never know. He didn't like to think that at this very moment they may be in trouble and were calling for help that wouldn't come.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be okay," she reassured a little awkwardly, seeing the dark look on his face, "And they have the Ancients to call on if they get into trouble, yes?"

He didn't share her confidence in Atlantis' new inhabitants but said nothing.

Silence reigned for a moment as he considered whether or not to tell her more, to talk about the other issues that still bothered him so much the more and more he thought about them. In the end he decided she was probably the only one outside the Atlantis project itself he could confide in. It didn't seem right to burden his doubts on anyone who had been there but he needed to say something to someone.

"There were things we did..." he began, a confession without specifics, "Courses of action we took that at the time seemed for the best. We all thought that it was the only thing we could do and I agreed with that and now...I'm not sure I ever should have..."

"Carson," she said soothingly, clearly having more trust in his judgement than he did, "You do an amazing job. Not many people could do what you do. I know I couldn't. I don't have the guts for having other people's lives in my hands."

"I thought I was helping them," he continued vaguely, barely having registered what she'd said, "But I only made things worse and by the time I'd realised...damage was already done. I took an oath to preserve life. I'm not sure whether I broke that or not."

She didn't ask him what he was referring to. Perhaps she didn't want to know.

"Life or death situations change the rules," she said thoughtfully, a slight tension in her voice, "I'm sure when you took that oath that you didn't envisage yourself facing situations like you did out in Pegasus."

He sighed, not sure if he wanted to hear support that he wasn't certain he deserved, running his hands back through his hair as his eyes studied his feet.

"It just feels like...such a waste of time," he admitted in frustration, "We brought so little back and lost so many people doing it."

"Exploration is never a waste of time, no matter what the outcome," she stated firmly, "Our curiosity is what makes us who we are. It's probably what's going to save us in the end."

"Or condemn us."

She smiled, "Possibly. Probably."

There was silence for a moment.

Then he smiled too.

"Truth is," he said with a shake of his head, "I was bloody terrified when I first went there. I hated using the technology in case I did something, didn't like the idea of gate travel... I spent the first few weeks praying that we'd find a way home as quickly as possible."

He laughed a little at the memory, surprising himself as he realised how far he'd come.

"In the last few years I've been shot at, drugged, strangled, near drowned, crashed, tied up, caught in a volcanic eruption and god knows what else...I must be bloody crazy for missing it so much."

She shrugged with played nonchalance, "Home is home I suppose. No matter how many life-sucking aliens are there...Or volcanoes...I'm sure that, if you give it a chance, Colorado Springs can become home too."

He smiled.

"Thank you, love," he said, reaching across and squeezing at her hand, "I think I needed this."

And he genuinely was thankful for her. It was good to have someone who could come in from an outside perspective and see things so reasonably. Someone who asked him questions and challenged what he was thinking and feeling. Someone who didn't judge him. Someone who would and could listen.

He didn't feel better yet. Certainly didn't feel quite right about being back here. But he was more settled with the idea and more willing to see where it led him. And for the first time in a while he didn't feel quite so burdened.

Besides, who knew how long it would have taken him to get out and face up to these things otherwise. How many days and nights he would have spent on that base, never getting on with the life that his return to Earth had afforded him. Spending all his time worrying about things now out of his control. Carpe diem was not a bad philosophy to live by after all. He might as well start now.

Without pausing to consider it, he leant across and kissed her quickly on the cheek, a blush soon forming where his lips had touched.

"What's that for?" she asked, looking slightly uncomfortable and a little taken aback, although it seemed to be in a good way.

"Because it's nice to have someone who cares," he replied simply.

"You have lots of people who care for you, Carson," she responded, her tone half scolding as though he was being very silly to think otherwise.

"Not like that," he pointed out, letting his words hang in the air, changing the subject before she had time to comment. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, "Come on, race you to the top. Last one there buys lunch."

She smiled with sweet venom, the awkwardness of a moment ago all forgotten, "I do hope you brought your wallet."

He grinned in return.

"Ah but you see as your physician I order you to take it easy on account of your injury."

"Then, as my physician," she countered quickly, "You'd best buy me lunch for the good of my health."

"Smart arse," he said, shaking his head with a laugh as he admitted defeat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Carson was never really much in to therapy, talking things through, telling strangers your inner feelings and the such. Whilst it seemed to work for some people, it certainly wasn't the only plausible solution to your problems as some of the professionals he'd met seemed to believe and he'd always maintained that it was highly dependent on the individual; some liked to talk, some liked time to work things through on their own. He had always considered himself to be one of the latter. He had to admit however that being able to talk with Imogen and properly admit some of what he'd been feeling since his return from Atlantis had been rather cathartic. So much so that he had resolved to go and see Elizabeth as soon as possible and offer her the opportunity to talk too. He had a feeling it would likely do her some good.

He certainly felt more at ease and more at home back on Earth now. He was settling in well to the SGC; the work was interesting, he was putting his skills to good use and Dr Lam had been very respectful of his experience. He was even beginning to look for an apartment in town to replace the one he was currently renting, deciding that if he was going to be here for the foreseeable future he might as well get a proper home. And, last but certainly not least, he had the attentions of a lovely young woman who he was determined to ask out on a proper date.

Not that he hadn't seen her. In fact he'd seen her rather a lot around the base. They'd had lunch together, he'd brought coffee down to her office, she'd helped him in his house hunting... But it was still rather teetering on the edge of being something more than a friendship rather than ever getting any further. Even Sheppard had given up ribbing him about it, apparently having decided that there was nothing to rib about. That just made Carson even more determined to ask her the next time he saw her before she got the same impression the Colonel had.

He hadn't really banked on that being in the wee small hours of the morning though, having spent hours in surgery with an injured marine and then deciding that it wasn't really worth going home and he might as well kip at the base for the night. Besides someone had to be available in case the lad had to go back into theatre again. Not that he would be in any fit state to operate if he didn't have a few hours sleep and get something to eat first though.

That's where he unexpectedly found her, sitting at a table in the deserted commissary surrounded by abandoned cups of tea, numerous pieces of paper full of scrawled notes and a tablet PC. So focused was she on what she was doing that she didn't even look up when he entered.

Even when he sat down opposite her it took her a few moments to notice. Hardly the best start.

"Oh...sorry...hi," she greeted, looking apologetic and tired, "You haven't been there long, have you?"

He smiled fondly.

"No, love. Although from the looks of it I could have danced a naked gig in front of you and you wouldn't have noticed."

She smiled slightly in return, "You know, I think I might've actually."

"Well, I won't be putting that to the test," he promised with a small laugh before indicating the work in front of her, "So what's all this then? More stuff from the Ancient database we brought back?"

She nodded, "We're still looking for any mentions of Merlin or his weapon that might help SG-1 find it. We figure that it's best we get it sooner rather than later so..."

"Overtime."

"Overtime," she confirmed, stretching her back and rolling her neck, frowning when she heard it crack, "And now I think its break time...What time is it anyway?"

"Just gone two am."

"Okay then..." she murmured, clearly having not realised how long she'd been here. Then she frowned, looking at him curiously, "Why are you still here? You're not supposed to be working tonight, are you?"

"Emergency surgery," he explained, "SG-14 were caught in an industrial explosion on the planet they were on."

"Industrial explosion?" she queried.

"We've got people there investigating it but it seems to have been an accident."

"How are the team?"

"Mostly just cuts and bruises, a few minor burns," he said, adding a small, weary sigh at the memory of all he'd just struggled through to save a life, "One lad was bad though – got impaled through the abdomen by some flying debris and received some pretty extensive burns to his left side."

Her face screwed up in something akin to a mixture of revulsion and sympathy, "Will he be all right?"

His eyes dropped slightly to the table as he shook his head, tired and unable to muster up too much optimism at this hour, "Well he came out of surgery alive but it's hard to tell with burns. They can get infected then..."

He trailed off, unwilling to doom the lad with his own dour thoughts.

She laid her hand lightly on his, patting it in a comforting manner, "You've done what you can, eh? And these marines are a hardy bunch. He'll fight."

He smiled thankfully at her which she returned. She was about to pull her hand back when he grabbed it, his brain suddenly deciding now was as good a time as any.

"Have dinner with me," he blurted out, not bothering with any preamble, hoping she didn't notice that it seemed to be more an instruction than an invitation. It wasn't exactly smooth or romantic but he defied anyone to do better in the middle of the night after carrying out nearly three hours of surgery. And it was a start at least.

She blinked, apparently not sure if she'd heard him correctly, "I beg your pardon?"

"Have dinner with me," he repeated, "Tomorrow night..."

She pondered for a moment.

"Well technically tonight now..." he added, uncomfortable with the waiting silence. Almost subconsciously his thumb had begun to brush along the back of her hand. He stopped immediately when he saw her glance there, a little embarrassed as her let her go.

"Would that be a date of sorts?" she asked looking at him curiously, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leant a little closer.

"It would, yes," he replied with a slightly nervous, dry throat. It was only now with the deed done that he started to consider that he'd made a mistake. What if he'd gotten it completely wrong and she was only interested in being friends? He hoped to god this wasn't about to go very badly indeed.

"Well that's okay then," she said with a slightly playful smile, apparently well aware of his momentary discomfort, "Of course I accept."

"You do?"

He wished he didn't sound so surprised.

"Hmm, let me think..." she teased pointedly, "Lovely, handsome man asks me to dinner. What on Earth could my answer be?"

Finally he began to relax again, the idea that she had quiet happily said 'yes' seeming to filter through to his brain.

"'Handsome'?" he asked with a grin.

"Ask me again this evening. I've only had about three hours sleep in two days so my vision's not what it should be."

"Cheeky..."

"Tired..." she reasoned, "And impatient. It's about bloody time you asked me. Honestly, I was being to think you weren't interested at all."

He laughed a little, "Oh and so you couldn't have asked me?"

"I'm a lady," she explained with a joking smile, "Ladies don't ask. They wait to be asked."

"Ladies don't sit at small tables in deserted commissaries with doctors they barely know in the middle of the night either," he pointed out.

"Not usually no."

Carson realised that his brain (if not other parts of his anatomy) had apparently decided 'in for a penny, in for a pound' and he leant across the table without barely a thought of what he was doing or even if he really should.

"And ladies never kiss said doctors in deserted commissaries in the middle of the night, do they?" he added, the look in his eyes an obvious suggestion.

"Certainly not," she said quietly, although that clearly wasn't quite true as she made no move to stop him.

His lips brushed hers for the merest of tantalising seconds before the sound of the approaching soldiers hit like a tornado. Reluctantly he pulled away, shaking his head in disbelief and seeing her laugh as the soldiers made their way noisily into the room. Fortunately it appeared they'd seen nothing because no jeering or ribbing ensued.

"Great," he muttered with a sigh, "So much for a peaceful break."

"I have supplies of soft drinks and junk food," she suggested, "They're hidden away in my office for just such emergencies."

His face brightened at that, "Really?"

"Yep and I'll do you a deal; you get me out of this chair and I'll lead you right to them."

"Sounds fair to me."

"Just as long as you realise I've been sitting here for about five hours now and I've lost all feeling in my legs."

He smiled a little as he stood up and went over to help her up. "Good job I came along then. You might have been here all night."

----------------------

"Have you been to see Elizabeth yet?"

The tone was insistent and demanding and it put Carson on the defensive slightly. It didn't matter how long or how well they knew each other, he still didn't liked being spoken to like that. There was just no need for it. As usual though he was tolerant in the face of provocation.

"No, Rodney."

"Why not? You said you were going to go last week!"

Carson sighed, shifting the phone to his other hand. As much as he understood and appreciated the other man's concern for her, his job description did not include babysitting Elizabeth. She was a grown, independent and intelligent woman and he knew that she wouldn't take too kindly to having people check up on her as though they thought she was some delicate little thing who needed looking after. He'd fully intended to go and see her for a few weeks now but he wanted to give her some space first. Some time to come to terms with the decisions that had been made around her.

"I do have my own life you know," he pointed out, "I've been busy sorting things, what with work and trying to find somewhere permanent to live...Besides, I left her plenty of phone messages. If she wants to talk she knows where we are. She just needs some time that's all."

"Time for what?" Rodney snapped irritably, although it was concern that made him do so and so Carson let it slide, "It's like she doesn't want to know us at all."

Oh yes, there was also a small element of selfishness involved too, Carson had to remember that. Rodney had become surprisingly clingy with his friends since being reassigned to Area 51. Although he hadn't so much admitted it, it was clear that he missed them. He seemed to have at last realised just how much those on Atlantis meant to him. Or least he finally had the courage and confidence to confess it.

"I'm sure it's not like that at all," Carson soothed, "Look I'm going to pop round to hers this afternoon and ask her to come to dinner with us tomorrow, all right?"

"Good. That's good," Rodney continued and Carson could almost see him nodding in approval, "Well don't take 'no' for an answer, okay?"

There was silence for a moment and Carson waited, sensing there was more to come.

"I'm just worried about her," Rodney eventually conceded, his voice sounding much smaller than usual, "I know what it's like to be on your own."

Carson smiled and shook his head with some degree of fondness. He should have known. It had been a recurring theme of their phone calls for weeks.

"You're not on your own, Rodney," he reasoned, "You've got plenty of people working there with you."

Handling Rodney McKay was a fine art. You had to know when to mother him because he was genuinely hurting and when to give him a good kick up the backside to stop him wallowing. Now seemed to call for the latter.

"It's not the same," Rodney muttered, a bit of a sulk coming through.

"You'll be okay," Carson reassured, "You've just got to get used to a new set of people. We can't stay in the same place forever."

"I can," he said almost petulantly, as usually quite happy to state that he had the right to be different from everyone else, "And I shouldn't have to get used to working with new people. I'm used to working with the best not these...these rank amateurs."

Now that certainly wasn't true. There were no 'rank amateurs' working at Area 51, even from Rodney's own ridiculously high standards. Still, it wasn't worth getting into an argument about and so Carson said nothing.

"I should be there," Rodney continued, sighing in frustration,"I'd be much more use at the SGC than stuck out here."

"You'd be useful anywhere Rodney, trust me...," Carson encouraged, his eyes glancing at the clock as he came to a realisation of his own, "Look I have to go."

Rodney seemed a little put out by this.

"What? Why?"

"Like I said, I have a life," he replied evasively. It wasn't as if he had any real problem with his friends knowing about Imogen but it would be nice to spend a little quiet time getting to know her properly without the third degree from others.

"I've got to go and see Elizabeth," he explained in response to Rodney's irritated, unintelligible grumble, "And I've got to get a few hours sleep before I go out to dinner tonight."

"Well just make sure she says 'yes' to coming with us, okay?" the other man near demanded, "And don't forget to pick me up from the airport tomo-"

There was silence and for a moment Carson thought they'd been cut off.

"Wait a minute, who are you having dinner with?" Rodney asked suspiciously, "Do you have a date?"

Carson sighed, looking skywards.

"Yes, Rodney."

There was a bit of a huff.

"So you're abandoning me for a woman?"

"I'm not abandoning you, Rodney," he explained with a great degree of patience.

More silence.

"Is she pretty?"

"She's lovely, yes."

"...Does she have any nice friends?"

"Goodbye, Rodney."

----------------------

After a bit of deliberation he decided to go with a suit, open neck shirt and no tie. A mixture of casual but neat that looked as if it fitted the occasion well. It seemed to work too because when she arrived to pick him up and he opened the door, she took a clear moment to glance up and down him.

"Yup," she said as though coming to a conclusion, "Definitely handsome."

He grinned, "You don't look too bad yourself."

He was used to seeing her in trouser suits or jeans, so the crimson dress with the floaty skirt and low neckline was a very pleasant surprise indeed. He'd considered for quite a while now how lovely she was and that she really was very pretty but seeing her like this gave him reason to think quite a few other things as well.

He invited her in, saying he just needed a moment longer.

"Isn't it supposed to be women who take forever to get ready? You aren't still doing your hair are you, Carson?"

He smiled at her, "Well whilst I'm sure it took you no time at all to look as lovely as that, some of us take a little more effort."

"You're forgetting that 'handsome' thing I said a minute ago, aren't you?" she said giving him a pointed look, "And I'm going to have to add 'charming' to that list too now."

"Charming, eh?" he said with a playful grin, an arm catching her around the waist as she went to move past him.

"But only a little" she added teasingly.

"A little?" he asked, his lip descending onto hers for a few alarmingly pleasing moments.

"Just a very little," she whispered slightly taken aback when he pulled away.

As he gave into temptation and went to kiss her again she placed her fingers softly on his lips.

"We have reservations," she reminded him gently.

"Aye, we do," he agreed, knowing precisely when he was being asked to take things just a bit more slowly, "Won't be a moment."

He kissed her much more chastely on the cheek this time and then disappeared momentarily into his room, finding the relevant paperwork and just checking the precise time tomorrow that Rodney's flight was due in. He'd never hear the end of it if he was late.

When he arrived back in his lounge she turned to face him, pointing at the tank on the side table.

"Turtles?" she queried with a frown, "You do realise that these things bite?"

"Like little buggers, yes," he agreed his fingertips aching slightly from experience.

"Why turtles?" she asked, seemingly amused by the idea.

He shrugged, "I'm not allergic to them and they don't need me here all day. They're actually quite sweet little things in their own way."

"Their own bitey vicious way?"

"Precisely."

----------------------

"So," he said, taking a small sip from a very good glass of wine as the waitress cleared the dessert plates, "I decided to take some very good advice of yours."

"Really? What was that then?"

"I've asked for two weeks leave so I can go back home to Scotland. Visit my family."

"That's wonderful," she said, genuinely pleased for him, "They're going to be so pleased to see you."

"Aye and you too."

She hesitated.

"Excuse me?"

"Only if you want to of course," he clarified, "Trust me, they'd love to meet you and, to be honest, if I told my mother about you and she didn't get to see you I'd never hear the end of it."

Despite his joking manner, she looked rather serious.

"Carson are you sure?" she asked, clearly very uncertain about the whole idea, "I mean, wouldn't I be imposing? You're supposed to be spending time with your family. They don't even know me, I can't just turn up with you."

In truth he hadn't been certain he was even going to ask her up until the previous day. He'd flirted with the idea but he wasn't sure if it was right; was it too serious? Did it take things too far too soon? But, in the end he reasoned that there was nothing wrong with taking a friend back with him. And if she turned out to be something more? Well there was certainly nothing with it then either. Besides, it could well be a year or two before he managed to get back home again and who knew what could happen between them in that amount of time.

He smiled reassuringly.

"Oh you've got to be kidding, love. As far as they're concerned, the more the merrier. And I really would like you to meet them..."

She thought about it for a long moment before looking at him, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Will I get to see you in a kilt?"

He smiled too, "Quite possibly."

"Well that's settled then."

He waited until she was drinking and then glanced at her slyly over the top of his own wine glass, "I may even let you into the secret of what I wear underneath it."

He couldn't help but laugh as she spluttered slightly on her drink.

------------------------------------

"I'm sorry about this, love," he muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time since leaving the restaurant.

She smiled making it quite clear that it wasn't necessary.

"Don't worry," she said, opening her door and letting them both in, "I really do understand."

They had just finished their meal and he had suggested moving on to a nearby wine bar so they could sit and talk some more when Rodney had called. Apparently his flight had been changed, he now had to get a connecting one (which he definitely wasn't happy about) and he had no idea when he'd get in but Carson better damn well be there to pick him up when he arrived. He hadn't even remembered he was interrupting Carson's evening. Typical.

Despite his newly organised state, one of the things Carson hadn't sorted out in his apartment was internet access. Since he didn't consider it vital and he was going to hopefully be moving soon he hadn't really seen the point it getting it set up. Now, as sod's law would have it, he needed it to find out what time Rodney was due in. Fortunately Imogen had a connection in her house and had said that he could come and check there.

Pointing him to her bedroom desk she had seen him settle down, shrug his jacket off, shown him what to click and left him to get on with it. Ten minutes of searching later he had found Rodney's flight and was just waiting for the website to tell him the expected arrival time when he felt her hands slip over his shoulders and slide down the front of his shirt slightly. The almost unexpected tenderness in her touch made a warm shiver pass through him.

"Did you find it?" she asked, the whisper of her breath so close to his ear a vast distraction which he wondered if she was doing on purpose.

"Aye," he said with the nod as the page finally loaded and he scanned down the results, "Half past three apparently."

"Mercifully late then," she said, squeezing his shoulders slightly before moving away, "I think you could do with a lay in for once."

He smiled as he turned on the seat to face her. "Aye, it would be nice."

He watched for a moment as she plonked down on the end of the bed and pulled off her shoes, wiggling her toes and rubbing her feet to try and get the blood flowing in them again.

He sighed, shaking his head.

"Why you women torture yourself for the sake of some pretty leather on your feet is a bloody mystery," he said, half scolding, half sympathetic as he got up and knelt down at the end of the bed taking one of her feet in his hands and massaging it gently.

"I believe it's karma at work," she said with a crooked smile, "You want pretty shoes, you must have the pain."

"It's bloody insanity, that's what it is," he said with a fond shake of his head, "If I had my way you'd be in something more sensible."

"Well if you keep doing that I just might agree to anything," she said with a satisfied sigh.

"Really?" he asked, with an interestedly raised eyebrow.

"Almost anything," she qualified.

"That'd do."

She poked him lightly in the shoulder with her free foot.

"Behave," she warned, without managing any seriousness at all.

"It's you," he argued, "You obviously bring out the worst in me."

"Or the best," she countered, "Whatever way you want to look at it."

Truth was he'd only meant to kiss her. A simple kiss to be enjoyed and savoured, soft, sweet lips moving against each other just for the sake of it. But within mere moment of him kneeling up a little and pressing his lips to hers, some deep buried instinct had ignited. He'd caught the look in her eyes during a momentary pause and knew instantly she felt it as much as him. Then he was kissing her again, his tongue demanding at her lips and his hands sliding up her back, his weight shifting to press her back down onto the bed. A pleasurable shiver swept through him as one of her legs snaked so easily around his, her fingertips tracing patterns up and down his spine. But it wasn't until her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and then quickly found their way through to his skin that he realised something he'd had no idea about before. The fact that he'd forgotten.

Not the actual mechanics of the process, no he knew that well enough. He remembered it could be good, even amazing with the right person, but he'd completely forgotten all the little feelings and moments that made that so. He'd forgotten the feel of soft skin under his fingertips until he ran his hands up under her dress. He'd forgotten how something as simple as her winding her hands through his hair so she could pull him close and kiss him more deeply could set off prickles of desire all over his skin. He'd forgotten how inexplicably sexy the curve from waist to hip was, how impossible it was to resist the temptation to move his hands down it and then across flat stomach, his kisses turning to smiles as she squirmed a little when he found a ticklish spot.

And there was so much more too. That momentary thrill when she took charge, turning him onto his back and sitting astride him, long dark hair falling in a curtain around them as she kissed his lips once more. There was that feel of someone's tongue and lips chasing along the delicate skin over his collarbone and into the hollow of his throat which left his heart inexplicably thudding in pleasure and a trace of excited vulnerability in his veins. And then, even better, soft hands pushing his shirt fully from his shoulders and tracing the lines and plains of his body, dipping low to the waistband of his trousers, taking time to find the places he liked to be touched, giving him attention that set every nerve ending to maximum sensitivity.

There was the first thrill of excitement as he took control once more, pressing her body to the bed, moving himself against her hip so that new sensations of pleasure hit him as he kissed her even more deeply than before, almost bruising hard. Then came the almost frantic removal of clothes, the laughter and the playfulness as something inevitably didn't come off quite as well as it should and the admiration of a figure she hid too well underneath her clothes. There was a more thorough investigation of her body to be done then, all soft curves and smooth skin, revelling in the way she moved beneath him as his mouth pressed against her or when his fingers brushed the right place. Loving how she rewarded his touches with ones of his own, sweeping up his thighs and over his back, his breath catching when he settled his body so close against hers, feeling skin on skin.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever noted the silk smoothness of legs entwined with his before but it was certainly something he picked up upon now. Although it couldn't yet be compared to the heady high of someone sighing his name so freely into his ear or of hands and lips and bodies wrapping themselves together and moving so smoothly. He'd even forgotten how thick and heavy his own accent became as he lost himself further into instinct.

But almost best of all there was an intimacy there that he hadn't felt with anyone in a very long time indeed. The feeling of being with someone he truly cared about. Someone who he perhaps did not want to have to do without in the future even if that feeling was a little unsettling for someone who had almost become resigned to being on their own.

One thing he did know for certain was that he did not want to forget again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

Over the last few years Carson had found himself to be a person who was quite comfortable sleeping wherever was necessary and wherever he was needed and so he was totally at ease with waking up in Imogen's room and her bed. What he wasn't quite so happy about was stretching over and finding the bed empty, the covers on her side neatly smoothed back down, the occupant clearly having been gone for quite some time. He frowned as he sat up, taking just a moment to hear a soft tapping of keys coming from the lounge.

He got up, slipping his underwear on before wandering off to find her. She wasn't exactly hard to discover, sitting cross legged on her sofa, wrapped in a soft dressing gown and pouring over some work on a laptop.

She glanced up with an apologetic wince when she saw him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No love," he said, coming and sitting down in the chair opposite her, unable to hide the unwelcome surprise in his voice, "But I'm curious as to what was so important that you couldn't even say 'good morning'."

She looked up hurriedly from her laptop apparently a bit startled by his mild scolding. She studied his gaze for a long moment as he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her explanation. Then she seemed to finally realise what she'd done and how it must seem to him, and she looked away, shaking her head, suddenly seeming very weary.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, sighing in annoyance at her own thoughtlessness, "I didn't mean anything by it. I just hoped to have these database translations done days ago and I'm still nowhere near finishing... The syntax is just a nightmare and I just keep getting this dreadful feeling that I'm going to miss something important and it'll be all my fault if-"

She was silenced as he quickly knelt in front of her and softly pushed his lips against hers, wrapping his fingers through her hair and only pulling away after the longest moment. She smiled a little when he looked at her which was something at least.

"I'm sorry," she repeated again, still looking guilty, "I didn't mean to just leave you like that. I just...I didn't think."

"Shh..." he consoled, running his hand across her cheek and then kissing her to silence.

"I know, I'm being silly, aren't I?" she said with contrition as their lips parted again, "I just can't help it. You have no idea how many times I've woken up in a panic over this during the last couple of weeks."

"Then," he said with a cheeky smile, "As your doctor I order you back to bed where I can keep a very close eye on you."

Her smile broadened, "Really? And is that your considered medical opinion? Or were you thinking with something else?"

"Well you won't know until you take my advice."

She shook her head with a grin. "Let's compromise. Let me finish writing down what I've found out and then I'm all yours."

"Tempting," he said raising an eyebrow, "All mine, eh?"

She batted him lightly on the shoulder, "Didn't we go through this last night?"

"Hmm," he agreed, "And look where that led."

Without another word, he stood up and sat down on the sofa behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back towards him. There was a moment of tenseness and then she seemed to accept it and relax, getting on with her work and barely even noticing he was there. He liked that. He loved that she was so comfortable with him. He loved the easy companionship of being with her and the affection in her fingertips brushing over his hands as she paused to think before typing again.

The bottom line was he felt honestly happy, something he never could have imagined six weeks ago when all he could think was that he was leaving behind all his friends and a mission that was important to him. For the first time since their return from Atlantis he felt totally at ease with being here. Even glad that they had been forced to come back. After all, things weren't exactly working out badly for him and he certainly wouldn't have had time for all this on Atlantis.

"Do you want to come to dinner tonight?" he asked softly after long, quiet moments.

She smiled, not taking her eyes off of her work.

"Not particularly, no."

"No?"

"You're supposed to be having dinner with your friends, aren't you?" she explained simply, still typing away, "And you should be doing just that. I'm sure I'll cope quite well without you for one evening."

He laughed a little, "But won't you miss me?"

"I'll pine for you terribly," she said dryly, "But I'll survive."

She paused and then finally put the laptop down, turning to face him a little.

"Look it's not that I don't want to meet your friends properly but from what you've been saying, this meal is a little special for you all and I wouldn't fit in with that. So go, share your memories, say goodbye to Atlantis or whatever you're doing. There will be plenty of other opportunities for me and you to spend some time together," her smile broadened a little, "Besides, I have plans for you and I tomorrow and I need time to organise things."

"Plans?"

"Surprise plans which you will find out more about if you turn up here at nine in the morning..."

"What 'surprise plans'?" he asked with a curious frown.

"Do you understand the definition of 'surprise'?" she teased.

He smiled, accepting defeat, "Fine. It's a date."

He sealed it with a kiss.

"Besides," he admitted, "I probably wouldn't hear the end of it from Rodney if I brought a lovely young lady without bringing one for him."

She laughed.

"Speaking of whom, don't you have to go and pick him up?"

"Not for hours yet."

She raised an interested eyebrow, "Hours?"

He grinned, catching her meaning as he easily grabbed her and pulled her towards him.

----------------------

"There you are."

A little startled by the sudden voice in the silence, her gaze shot up from her work to see Daniel standing in the doorway with a slightly amused expression on his face.

"Although to be honest I didn't really have to look very far, did I?"

She looked skywards. He was convinced she was pinning and throwing herself into her work as a means of forgetting no matter how much she protested that that wasn't the case. He hadn't even considered that the quicker she finished, the quicker she could leave with good conscience. She wasn't even sure if he knew she was going.

He didn't reply to her look, just took a few steps into the room and handed her a data disk. She looked at it in dismay.

"More translations?"

"No," he said with a sympathetic smile, "A message for you."

He left without further comment.

Curiously, she crossed to the computer, put the disc in and ran the only file there. As soon as she saw him she knew she should have realised who it was from all along.

He looked nervous. She hoped it was just because he wasn't particularly comfortable on camera and not that he felt so ill at ease about talking to her.

"_Hello, Imogen, love. How are you doing? I hope this finds you well."_

His manner and pleasantry was forced though and after a moment he dropped the pretence, his shoulders sagging.

"_Look, I feel bloody terrible about the way I left. I should have called you before we went, explained what was happening but I was just so focussed on what we were doing and things happened so quickly...When I realised the next day that I should have been meeting you and you would have thought I just didn't show up or I forgot or..."_

He sighed, wiping his hands across his face, a guilty gesture.

"_I'm so sorry, love, really I am. I feel like a total sod, leaving like that the day after we..."_

He stopped just short of saying it and for some reason it made her smile. He probably was well aware that the military may screen the message before she got it and he clearly didn't want some sergeant knowing the ins and outs of their private life. His slight blush and nervous manner didn't leave much to the imagination though.

"_I like you. I really, really do and I wish...Well, I hope you don't think badly of me because of this. I've spoken to Elizabeth. She said you've applied to come over as soon as your current project is finished so I'm hoping that means you can't be too irate with me."_

She shook her head fondly.

Idiot man.

Her first thought when it was clear that something was wrong had been worry. When he hadn't shown up and she couldn't contact him she had been concerned that something had happened. When he didn't answer his door, she had, her heart thudding with doubt, phoned the SGC to see if he was there and had finally discovered what they had done. Instead of reassuring her however that had just made her even more nervous. He wasn't a soldier. He may have been active in the field before but that was quite different from being directly in the firing line, particularly when being in a hopelessly outnumbered team and facing a very powerful enemy. When she had heard that they were okay, that they had rescue the General and Woolsey and retaken the city, she had been utterly relieved. Soon after a tinge of disappointment had hit with the realisation that he couldn't come back now. The rest of the Atlantis team would take possession of the city and they needed their CMO. A small, selfish part of her argued that she needed him more, that there were plenty of doctors who could be out there but she needed this particularly one back on Earth. Her sensible mind always won that argument in the end however. She understood that were precious few things more important to him than his job and responsibilities. She respected that. Even if she did miss him something rotten.

She'd felt all that but never once had she'd been angry. She may not profess to knowing him as well as she'd like but she was well aware of what type of man he was and she couldn't blame him for that. It was the nature of their jobs after all.

On screen, his image smiled.

"_I was hoping you'd let me take you to lunch when you arrive...The commissary's hardly a romantic getaway but..."_

He was quite for a moment before looking into the camera with a blinding honesty.

"_I do miss you, love..."_

For a moment his words hurt and she realised what an awfully long way away he really was.

He forced his demeanour to become brighter, obviously not wanting to leave it on such a melancholy note.

"_You take care of yourself, okay? And I'll see you soon."_

Yes, she would. She knew she had to finish this work and never would feel right just leaving it to someone else, but as soon as she was done she'd be on the Daedalus and out to Pegasus. At last. And now not only did she have an amazing city, new races, new planets and new cultures awaiting her, but she had a charming Scottish doctor to greet her on the end too. It was just a matter of time, that's all. A few weeks, a month, two at the most. It wasn't really that long.

He reached forward as though going to turn the camera off before suddenly pausing and returning to the screen.

"_One more thing – those turtles in my apartment could you please go and check on them? Poor little buggers have probably had it by now but...Thanks."_

He smiled wanly before moving right up to the camera and, after a moment, the recording ended.

She smiled too, glancing across at the tank re-housed in her office and just for a moment inspected her sore and thoroughly nipped fingers.

"The things I do for you," she said, shaking her head with a smile.


End file.
